Don't forget.

Whether mess or not
is inconsequential.
These broken boards
and varnished planks
hold together a patchwork
of timefull memories.

…

Stories told in yellow light,
blue canvas and thin mattresses,
while chilly condensation already forms
and tired eyes droop.

Adventures play out,
enthusiasm for every detail,
escaping children, mad pirates
and magic elves shout and dance.

Evenings rush by in dusky grey,
Straining springs squeaking and creaking,
While bare feet pound against the plastic
And bodies fly.

…

A small boy in green shorts,
chubby hands and rounded cheeks,
stands at the gap in the fence
and watches the workmen.

A summer sun reflects off water,
a green hose and rainbow spray,
that flickers and trickles and shivers
down goose-bump limbs.

Ladies laze under a sunshade,
on a brown felt blanket,
with feet against the daisies
and music notes under closed lids.

…

A small blonde haired girl,
Dirty fingers and grazed knees,
Coaxes green shoots from the raked earth
And carries treasures proudly into the house.

Golden flowers and russet leaves
Float in shifting breezes to the cold ground,
Leaving bare limbs that hit the washing line
As cold fingers peg up damp clothes.

Wondering eyes stare at delicate glory,
Pairs at a time voicing amazement at
the silk thin, glittering, rain catching webs
hammocking between jagged twigs.

…

Green wellies stamp in shallow puddles,
Carry the wearer from back to front,
Follow the blue wheels of a small pushchair
That, even in the cold, still rattles.

A camera flash captures the beauty:
Sharp fingers from the neighbour’s roof,
A leaf encased in translucent ice,
Drifts covering the paths so well known.

A flurry of snow announces the arrival
Of gloved hands and wrapped up bodies,
Snowballs that explode on thick coats
And creations that don’t last.

...

Now I stand on the trampoline
and stare around at the garden.
Plants and paths. Rocks and earth.
This place holds my home.

Whether mess or not
is inconsequential.
These broken boards
and varnished planks
hold together a patchwork
of timefull memories.